Holocaust survivor Agi Adler, 88, of Great Neck, lights a candle on International...

Holocaust survivor Agi Adler, 88, of Great Neck, lights a candle on International Holocaust Remembrance Day at the Holocaust Memorial and Tolerance Center in Glen Cove on Jan. 26. Credit: Rick Kopstein

This guest essay reflects the views of Richard Koubek, a faith-based community organizer for Long Island Jobs with Justice.

In the 1945 "Stuttgart Declaration of Guilt," German Protestant leaders apologized for their failure to oppose the Nazis, in which they wrote, "We accuse ourselves for not standing to our beliefs more courageously, for not praying more faithfully, for not believing more joyously, and for not loving more ardently." Catholic leaders issued a similar apology.

Eighty years later, many are asking what role American religion should play as the United States faces perhaps the greatest historical threat to our democracy.

Recently, I joined a group of faith leaders from the Huntington Action Network Against Hate who visited the Holocaust Memorial and Tolerance Center in Glen Cove. As we passed through each grim exhibit of escalating degradation as Germany’s democracy unraveled, we were asked, "What would you have done?"

What should we do today? When immigrants here illegally are demonized as "the other" and targeted for mass deportation? When peaceful student protesters with legal status are arrested because they criticized the war in Gaza? When government agencies are dismantled and their workers stripped of union rights, as if they were "enemies of the people?" When political critics are targeted by the government for retribution? When history is rewritten and books are banned to serve nationalistic or ideological interests? When truth is fabricated and a free press demeaned?

Lutheran Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer was one of the few German church critics of the Nazis, who executed him two weeks before the regime collapsed in April 1945. Warned by his bishops not to mix religion and politics, Bonhoeffer said of the growing repression, "Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act."

His chilling words beg the question: Why are Long Island religious leaders largely silent at this grave moment in our nation’s history? No news conferences, no prayer vigils, no major sermons, no pastoral statements of concern.

We know the answer. Long Island voted for Donald Trump. Most congregations are purple, a mix of Democrats and Republicans. Attendance is down; worshippers seeking peace don’t want to hear political messages from the pulpit. And who can blame them? In this deeply polarized time, how many family gatherings are off limits to political discussions?

As Jews mark Passover and Christians celebrate Easter, our political turmoil will hang over Long Island seders and Easter dinners. Not discussed will be the historical reality that each of these sacred holidays is rooted in opposition to political oppression. Jews will celebrate their liberation from slavery. Christians will mourn how government officials unjustly executed Jesus.

How then in 2025 do we speak of political oppression from a moral and religious perspective that demands respect for the dignity of every person? The answer is simply to challenge the abuses by speaking our truth to power and each other with love.

Episcopal Bishop Mariann Budde did this at the Inauguration prayer service when she gently asked President Donald Trump to show mercy to immigrants and the LGBTQ community.

Six hundred American Jewish clergy did this with their statement condemning mass deportations: "These executive actions will not only fail to bring order and security ... they will endanger individuals, separate families and destabilize communities  and industries,' they wrote, adding that the policies are intended to "instill terror."

Pope Francis did this when he wrote to every American bishop, "I have followed closely the major crisis that is taking place in the United States with ... mass deportations. The rightly formed conscience cannot fail to ... express its disagreement with any measure that ... identifies the illegal status of some migrants with criminality."

Of course, it’s a lot harder to speak up in a local congregation or at the family dinner table. It takes courage and patience and, yes, love. Despite the challenges, our rabbis, bishops, pastors and imams can and must do it. We all must do it, because "not to speak is to speak."

This guest essay reflects the views of Richard Koubek, a faith-based community organizer for Long Island Jobs with Justice